weakened
He moves like water looking for the lowest point in the room. His weak smile before the coffee, the air thinner and damp. I am accumulating again. Outside the glass, trees falling to fire, slow blue static of rain. Someone left a pile of fruit beside the dumpster, punched and resigned. Please, now, bring me more small sounds. Turtle the covers and breathe your breath. This is the relief map of morning.


0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home